“Y-you’re my Mr. Darcy?”
He moved his lips so they were close to her ear, but not quite touching. “Yes, Lizzy. I am most definitelyyourMr. Darcy.”
Tiny shudders raked through her body. “Lincoln.” She hiccupped and a hand flew to her mouth.
Ice chilled his veins at her misery, but something drove him to slide his arms tighter around her middle. “So, tears tell me you’re unhappy, but my arms don’t want to let you go. Please tell me what you’re thinking. If you’d rather I leave you to figure out your thoughts, I can do that too. I just heard your phone and couldn’t help myself.”
She turned her head, if he lowered his just an inch, he could kiss her. But he needed her to come to him. They both did. She trembled in his arms.
“Do you need time?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to leave? We should talk, right? I feel like we should talk.”
She turned her body around so she was facing him, her head hung low and her hands planted flat on his stomach. She must have felt his heart thumping wildly in his chest. Would she reject him now she knew who he truly was? That he was the same hockey playing jock from her English class?
He slipped a knuckle under her chin and tilted her head so he could see her face. A door opened, sending a beam of light over her face. Tears glistened on her cheeks and she had her top lip pinched between her teeth. He dropped his hands to his sides, this had to be her choice; he’d already made his.
Her face was unreadable in the dim light, but she slid her hands up his chest until they rested on his shoulders. She ran a finger along the collar of his shirt, gripped the fabric in her hand and tugged him toward her.
Cleo
She was clutching the collar of Lincoln Scott’s shirt. Had part of her suspected all along?
As his lips moved toward hers, she had to wonder. Relief had flooded her veins at the sound of his voice. He’d been her Mr. Darcy the whole time. She didn’t have to choose between the man on the phone with a warm spirit and a gentle heart, and the guy on the ice with a smile that could melt butter. They were one and the same.
Their lips crashed together. Cleo let go of the fabric of his shirt and slid her hands behind his head, running her fingers through his hair and pulling him against her.
She was kissing Lincoln. Again. And she never wanted to stop. Her heart raced.
Her hands roamed his broad shoulders as he cupped her ass, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. He turned, crashing her back against the wall. His lips left hers and found their way onto her neck. She tipped her head back, giving him space to drag his mouth along her skin and moaned as his tongue traced the line from her collar bone to her ear, nipping at her lobe. His rock-hard dick pressed against her core. Her forearms rested on his shoulders and her hands linked behind his head. Wasn’t he getting tired from holding her against the wall?
“Linc…”
In the dim light, his brows pinched with confusion and his eyes searched her face. “Do you want me to stop?”
She could almost reach out and touch the pain of rejection blinking back at her in his eyes.
“No… I…” She shuffled her weight in his hands until he put her down. “I don’t want to do thishere. Can we…?”
He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “Absolutely.” He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Lemme just give Russ a heads up that I’m leaving, okay?”
She nodded and settled back against the wall, her body jolted when he slid his hand into hers and gave a small tug.
“If you think I’m leaving you here to let your mind talk you down you have another thing coming.”
She smiled. This was going to be a thing now. He knew her. She’d let him know her and more than that, she kinda liked it. Holy shit. Mr. Darcy and Lincoln fucking Scott were one and the same. And she’d just had his hands over her body and her tongue in his mouth.
In the next room, someone had lit candles. Cleo wasn’t convinced that was the smartest thing for a group of drunk college kids to do, but they were well enough out of the way that they shouldn’t cause any problems.
The guy who had been with Linc, Johnny, and Will in the coffee shop was sitting on the floor playing spin the bottle – a sight which must have been unexpected to Linc, who burst out laughing. He waved hello to someone in the circle he called Sabrina who gave Cleo a shrewd smile. Linc tapped the guy on the shoulder. “Russ.”
Russ stood. “Linc, my man. Where’d you disappear off to?” Russ peered around Linc’s shoulder. “Ah. Never mind. Dumb question. It’s about fucking time.” He patted Linc on the chest. “You leaving?”
Linc nodded.
“You kids have fun, yeah?”
